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Chapter 33
Bear
“Hey, Honey, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Just a dream. Wake up.” I shook her gently, wanting to wake her, but not add to her distress more by scaring her, again.
She came to with a start, looking at me through unfocused and tear-filled eyes. She seemed to take a moment to realize where she was, and what was happening, but when she did, she wasn’t happy at all.
“Oh my God, this is an endless nightmare. Like I’m trapped here forever or something. Last time you said you didn’t drug me, but I don’t remember anything, and now I’m waking up on your couch again, after I remember saying I wanted to go home. You can’t tell me you’re not doing something to me.”
“I’m not drugging you. You haven’t eaten or drunk anything the whole time you’ve been here. Apart from the fact that I would never fucking drug anyone, just from a purely practical perspective, how the hell would I get any kind of drug into you, even if I wanted to?”
“A shot.”
“Really? Do you remember me injecting you? Do you have any puncture wounds anywhere?”
“It could be something like chloroform. That knocks people out just from them breathing it in.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to remember that the next time I want to render someone unconscious. In the meantime, for whatever my word is worth, I swear that I haven’t done anything to interfere with you in any way. For the record, you said you wanted to leave, but then said you were a little tired and needed to catch your breath first, so you napped for a little while.” She really did seem to believe that I was intervening to prevent her from leaving my room.
“There’s the door. As ever, you’re free to walk out of it at any time, but just like before, I’d urge you not to. It’s dark and late, and more importantly, the doctor suggested that you shouldn’t be alone, as you’re still at risk of concussion. Besides which, you don’t have any shoes to wear.”
“What the hell have you done with my fucking shoes?”
“Huh? Nothing. What do you think I’d do with them, put them in the trophy cabinet with the ‘trinkets’ I’ve collected from my other victims?” I sighed, doing my best to contain my growing frustration. She already thought I was dangerous—if I lost my shit, it would play right into that image of me.
“You didn’t have them on before, so I just assumed you wouldn’t want to wear them home, especially not paired with my sister’s track pants.”
“Well, I appreciate your concern for my sartorial choices, and my personal safety, but I don’t have to worry about the bogeyman getting me outside, because he’s already got me inside.”
“Okay. Point taken.” I threw my hands up in surrender. “I can’t force you to stay. I know you don’t have your phone, so you can’t text me, but please just send me an email when you get back to your room so I know that you’re safe, and we’ll leave it at that.”
“I really don’t think you’ve earned the right to be one of the people I let know I’ve gotten home safely, and thanks to you, I don’t have the means to contact the people who really matter in my life.” She looked around the room, and, spotting her purse on the side-table next to the couch, reached over and grabbed it, before getting to her feet. “You’re right about the shoes. They won’t make it to dance another day. You can keep them for your collection or just throw them out. Whatever floats your boat.”
I hated that she truly had me painted as some kind of psychopath—she was acting like I was Charles Manson, or some shit—though I could see why she might think of me that way after what had gone down earlier.
Hindsight was a bitch, but it was fair to say that even while it was all unfolding, it wasn’t my finest or proudest moment. Hopefully it wasn’t anyone’s proudest moment, though I wasn’t sure that the others felt the same remorse for the way we’d treated Honey as I did.
“Thanks. I’ll put them in the trash with the dress. They both looked great on you, by the way, and I’m sorry they got destroyed.”
“I’m sorry too, but they are just things. Nice things, but things all the same. I wish it was only things that were ruined today. They are so much easier to repair or replace than trust, confidence, and faith in humankind.” Fuck. “Anyway, I’m out.” She walked toward the door without a backward glance, or a further word, and I had no choice but to let her go.
She’d emerged from the bathroom earlier looking like a new woman. Still pale and with dark circles around her eyes, but so much fresher than she had been when I’d left the room, so that Emma could check her over in privacy.
Having not wanted to be accused of being a stalker, when she’d fallen asleep on the couch I’d found myself doing exactly that—stalking—for lack of an alternative word. I’d tucked her legs up and put some throw cushions under her head for pillows, to make her more comfortable, then I’d sat in the chair opposite and watched her sleep. Which, even in my own head, sounded way more creepy than it had felt while I was doing it.
It wasn’t like I’d made a conscious decision to watch her, but I hadn’t been able to turn away from the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest, or the flutter of her lush dark eyelashes with each breath. She looked different when she was asleep—just as gorgeous, but somehow younger and more vulnerable.
I’d wanted to scoop her up and take her to my bed; for once, not for sexual reasons, but because she would have been more comfortable and slept better. I’d resisted as she would have lost her shit if she’d woken up in my arms, or worse, under my covers. As it was, I’d made do with creepy sleep-watching and questioning my life choices.
Now that she’d left, I settled for staring at the spot on the couch she’d just vacated, which was a whole other level of loser. Cue even more contemplation of life choices and general humanity. Maybe I really was the monster she’d made me out to be.
My self-loathing spree was interrupted by a knock at the door, so quiet I first thought I’d imagined it.
“Hello?” I was fairly certain I was talking to myself, but I figured I might as well try. “Hello?” When nothing came back, I decided I could add losing my goddamned mind to my constantly growing list of character flaws. Jesus. I was fucking sad.
“Bear...?” That time it wasn’t my imagination. I’d heard it for sure. It was just above a whisper—at least that was how it had sounded from my side of the door—but it was definitely and unmistakably there.
“Coming!” I leapt the few strides across the room to get to the door.
